Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. They belong to J.R.R. Tolkien. I just like to write about them.

He's Not Alone

Chapter 3

"Do you think they will find him, Bilbo?" Merry asked as he buttered his toast points. Even though they were all worried about Frodo returning, Pippin did not let them forget that they had to eat too. It was something they could keep their minds on instead of dwelling that their cousin, barely recovered from his ordeal at Weathertop, was lost in the woods of Rivendell. Rumors had spread like wildfire that there were bounty hunters among the visitors to Imladris. As soon as it was heard that the Ringbearer was missing, those mysterious visitors vanished.

Emotions were running high, especially Bilbo's. He had demanded an audience with Gandalf and Lord Elrond to see what was being done to find his nephew. He regretted everything that had happened to Frodo and more so, that his nephew decided to go to Mordor to rid Middle-Earth of the One Ring.

He had told Frodo he was so very sorry for his misfortune. That leaving the Ring to him meant that Frodo would inevitably have to leave his beloved Shire.

"What are you doing to find my nephew? Hmm? What of these bounty hunters we hear rumors about? What..." Bilbo questioned unendingly until Gandalf raised his hand to try and hush the angered hobbit.

"I have told you that Lord Elrond has sent his best trackers out. Both of his sons, Aragorn and even the Prince of Mirkwood, Legolas, has joined in the search," Gandalf stated, hoping the impressive names might calm the Ringbearer's uncle. He had sat himself down in one of the wing back chairs across from the fire to bring himself to the halfling's eye level.

Bilbo's old bones cracked as he helped himself to the remaining small chair by the fire. Head in hands, he began to sob. "Oh, What have I done? Why him?" Bilbo asked softly to himself, but Gandalf's wizard ears, as old as they may be, picked up on the whispered words.

"It was not for us to decide, my friend. It was out of our hands from the beginning. We just have to protect him as much as we can, so that he may end this darkness coming to Middle Earth as we know it," Gandalf replied, staring at nothing in the roaring fire.

Sam had walked soundlessly to Bilbo's side, being invisible as his Gaffer taught him. It was at this time he spoke handing a saucer with an aroma of orange spices steaming from the cup,"here, Mr. Bilbo, have some tea."

There was also a cup offered into Gandalf's hand. Gandalf smiled down at the hobbit who took everything literal, protecting Frodo's life with his own. Yes. He had made the right choice. Sam would not leave Frodo's side, if he could help it. He knew Sam still blamed himself in letting anyone know that Frodo had been escapading around Rivendell far too long. "Thank you, Samwise. And do not worry, they will return soon with Frodo," Gandalf tried offering comfort.

Sam wanted to finish that sentence for him 'Dead or Alive'. He just nodded instead and turned around, making for the boiling pot, pouring two more cups of water for tea for Merry and Pippin.

"We should make something special for Frodo, Merry," Pippin piped up to make light of the situation.

Gandalf coughed into his cup, bursting words from his mouth,"And that reminds me young Took," he said recovering from his sputtering,"the Cook does not need you in his kitchen. They have just finished rebuilding from your last escapade".

"It was not our fault. We just wanted Frodo to eat. That is all. Now that the kitchen has been fixed, why cannot we..."

"The cook agreed to just Sam coming in and getting food. You two," Gandalf said pointing a knarled finger at Merry and Pippin,"are not to be in there for sometime."

"But, Gandalf, you know how we need to keep up our strength. It is just not natural for hobbits not to eat!" Pippin reasoned jumping down off the divan, making his way towards the tray laden with scones.

"Now, young Peregrin, you heed my words, you both..." the mighty wizard went quiet. He had spotted something out of the corner of his eye.

"What? Gandalf?" Merry asked, seeing that the wizard had gone still as if he had seen a Nazgul.

Gandalf had turned his attention to the flickering light of the candles. It was not the flames but a moth that fluttered around them, causing shadows to dance on the walls. Then the moth made its way in front of Gandalf's face, its wing tips brushing the grey beard. What seemed to be an eternity, the moth started to flutter back out the window until...

"I got the bugger!" Pippin exclaimed as he held the moth cupped in his hands as he peered through the crack of his thumbs.

"Peregrin, let it go, please," Gandalf asked softly as his hand caressed the young halfling's shoulder.

"But, it's just a moth," he questioned, still holding onto the moth as a prize.

"No, it is a messenger, and it had a very important message for me. Now, let it go so that it may one day bring more good news to those who need it," Gandalf the Grey informed the hobbits, who have now all gathered around the great wizard.

"What did it tell you, then?" Bilbo asked from his chair.

"That Frodo has been found, and he is in good company," Gandalf revealed. Sighs of relief filled the air.

"Pippin," Merry said placing a complacent hand upon his cousin's shoulder,"let it go."

Pippin looked between his thumbs again and whispered,"thank you," and released the moth into the night air.

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"Frodo? Frodo!" Aragorn called out, turning the small body over, carefully prying its fingers from the bear's fur.

Samantha felt the human touch, and opened her eyes just as the stranger unclenched the little one's fingers from its fur. Raising her head, baring her teeth she let out a small growl,"Rrrrr," that stated back off or you will be next.

Aragorn slowly pulled his hand back as the bear breathed heavily through its muzzle, laying her head onto Frodo's chest. With the limited light, Aragorn could see the dark blood slowly oozing from the spot where the arrow penetrated the powerful chest, bobbing up and down with each breath. "Shh, my lady. I promise I will not hurt him nor you," he said in Elvish, his hand snaking close to the bear's muzzle, gently giving it a pat.

Brown eyes stared into the depths of steel grey. Within moments, the great bear lifted her snout from Frodo's chest, licking Aragorn's hand in approval. "Thank you, my lady."

Seeing the fevered hobbit so still scared the mighty Ranger of the North. It had been over a fortnight since this gentlehobbit was stabbed at Weathertop. Every minute counting against his surviving the morgul blade. Every minute being chased by the Nazgul brought him closer to death. Was it by pure luck he happened to meet up with his dear Lady, to bring this precious creature back to her father. There was nothing else in his power that he could do for him. It was blessed by the Valar that Frodo survived. Gently gathering Frodo into his arms, being careful of the bleeding shoulder, he brought his ear to the hobbit's chest. After a few intensely long moments, relief crossed the Ranger's face as his features relaxed listening to the thumping heart of the unselfish individual he held tightly in his arms.

"Here," a soft angelic voice said above him. Straining his eyes in the dim light, Strider faced the water skin that Legolas held out before him. As Strider accepted the skin, Legolas dropped to the halfling's side,his delicate slender fingers stroking the damp curls out of the Ring-bearers face. Dripping a little of the cool water onto Frodo's parched lips, it was the briefest of moments before Aragorn had seen the hobbit's neck muscles constrict as Frodo swallowed the few drops of water. Feelings of despair and irresponsibility disappeared as Aragorn witnessed Frodo take a cleansing breath before the Hobbit started coughing, coming back to life as he started struggling against arms that had enfolded him.

The Ringbearer slowly opened his eyes. He had felt a small droplet of water run across his lips, being so thirsty, he swallowed. He did not, however, expect to see a dark figure looming over him. Thoughts rushed back to his nightmare that he had had. With one swift move, he broke free of the arms, hefting himself onto his elbows. Bringing his huge feet back, he yelled out,"NO!" totally catching the figure off guard, his foot making contact with its manly area, if it had one, he thought. The creature bent over in agony, giving the Ringbearer a chance to escape cluthces that was sure to bring pain if he did not act quickly.

Scampering backwards on his hands, the Ringbearer's weight increased the pain to his injured shoulder slowing him down. Panting heavily, his eyes glazed, he turned over onto his skinned knees, pushing himself up with blood stained hands to his full height, running for the cave's exit. Almost reaching his goal, he dared a quick glance behind him to see the figure coming after him, yelling out something. As he turned his head-WHACK! The Ringbearer sank to his knees, stunned, the darkness closing in around him as he plummetted to the dirt floor, scattering dust and debris to the winds.

"Aragorn!" Elladan called to his foster brother who was still bending over, moaning as the intense sharp pain in his groin slowly receded to a dull throb. "Estel, can you stand? Are you all right?" Elladan asked softly, gracefully bending to one knee as he reached Strider.

"Go...get...'phew'," he breathed through pursed lips. "Frodo. He...he hit his...head," Aragorn pointed a shaky finger towards the unconcious body laying face down at the entrance of the cave.

"Elrohir and Legolas are already making their way. Catch your breath. Are you injured any where else?" his brother questioned, patting his foster brother on his back.

Strider finally caught his breath, chuckling a little bit. "What is so funny?" Elladan asked him, finding no humor in the situation present at hand.

"Just thinking. I now know that Frodo can handle himself if needed. Those hobbit feet sure come in handy. I will think twice about being so close to his feet if he is ever out of his mind with fever in the future".

In the distance, Aragorn observed Legolas kneeling over Frodo's body, slowly turning him over onto his side. With a shaking of the Elf's blond braids, he knew something was amiss. "What is it?" he called out to his friend, getting to his feet.

With a resonant sigh, the Elf's voice sang out,"There is a gash on his forehead..." he paused as Aragorn's hand came into view, sweeping aside the Ringbearer's blood soaked curls from the jagged slice across his forehead. The blood had definitely stopped, but the swelling had begun around the injury accompanied by a blooming of a blue purplish discoloration that engulfed much of the left side of his face.

"Oh, Frodo," the Ranger sighed, careful of the swelling wound as he felt the heat from the Ringbearer's forehead warm his hand. "Why did you run?" Aragorn bereated himself for not having the cave illuminated enough for the Hobbit to recognize friend from foe.

the reference is made to "Home Cooking Hobbit Style" by Budgielover

tbc....